


Chaining The Unwilling

by xxKalaxx



Category: Bleach
Genre: Character Death, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Me having too much time on my hands, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:13:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxKalaxx/pseuds/xxKalaxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masaki hadn't been fast enough. The result? Nine-year-old Kurosaki Ichigo appearing in southern district 80, Rukongai, having no idea what the heck just happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

The monsters teeth ripped through his flesh, shredding muscle and bone ( _and he knew it was over, how could he ever hope to survive that?_ ). Startled chocolate eyes widened in pain ( _And, oooh, how it hurt, how it burned,_ pain _painpainpai-_ ). A pained scream tore itself out of his throat. Colors seemed to leach out of his vision, the only color remaining was the blood pouring down his rainjacket ( _redredredre-_ ). Was this how it felt like to die? He didn't want to die yet! Suddenly the teeth vanished from his side, and a fresh stream of blood poured out. 

»Ichigo!«

Frantic eyes appeared in his vision, grey, just like everything else. His head seemed light, the pain vanishing into the background. His brows wrinkled. His mothers eyes were brown, weren't they? Tears collected in the, still colorless, orbs above him. No! His mother shouldn't cry! She was supposed to be happy, to laugh and smile! He attempted a shaky smile up at her, teeth red with the blood that had collected in his lungs.

»It's okay, mummy, don't cry. Take care of Yuzu and Karin. Tell otou-san I said bye... I love you mummy...«

The nine-year-old's eyes drifted closed. The tears began to fall.

* * *

 

Kurosaki Isshin had been in the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea, when Kisukes call reached him. The cup fell out of his suddenly numb fingers and shattered on the floor, the hot liquid splashing everywhere. He didn't pay it any mind, being half out of the door already.

»Where are they?!«

He bellowed into the phone, clenched tightly in his hands.

»They're on the bridge. Masaki probably killed the Hollow, but Ichigos reiatsu is pretty weak right now. I'm leaving, meet you there!«

Ichigo was... hurt? Isshins face paled even further. He urged his legs to go even faster. The bridge was bearly two minutes away, but to him it seemed like an eternity till he was finally there. In moments like these he whished he still were a shinigami. With shunpo he would have been there in seconds! 

Through the rain he saw two figures, the familiar green-clad one of his long-time friend standing next to the second one, kneeling on the ground. 

»Masaki!«

* * *

 

Ichigo was.... confused. One moment he had been laying there, dying in his mothers arms, the second he was standing, unhurt and feeling really weird. The colors had returned and he didn't feel the rain anymore. His eyes focused on the figure crouching in front of him.

»Mummy?«

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... Yeah. First try at a fanfic. Good? No good?
> 
> Note: English isn't my first language, so if you spot any mistakes, feel free to point them out to me, I'll fix them ASAP...


	2. Rukongai (Or: In which Ichigo decides, beeing dead sucks.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in Rukongai with amnesia? Not so awesome.

In the middle of district 80, southern Rukongai, a small grey butterfly fluttered its delicate wings.

It floated for a second, then settled down in one of the many dark alleyways that this particular district possessed. Grey tendrils excaped its wings, and after a few seconds a human child had taken its place.

The child looked to be about nine years old, and he - for it was undeniably a boy - certanly made a unusual sight in the otherwise colorless and grey alley, his bright orange hair standing out like a beacon in the darkest of nights.

He wore a simple black yukata and traditional geta*. Slowly, the child seemed to awake. Long lashes fluttered and parted to reveal warm amber eyes. Confusion colored his features. Where was he?

* * *

 

Everything was so grey ( _how he loathed that color, he despised it with all his heart_ ). That was his first thought after opening his eyes. The streets, the sky, the people. Nothing stood out from the crowd, monotonous and colorless. He hated it.

Wobbly, he stood. He leaned against the gray wall of the alley and sighted tiredly. Why was he feeling so weak? He took his first hestant step out on the dirty street.

Narrow faces and dirty buildings ( _more like crappy made huts,_ his snappy mind supplied) greeted him, a dozen eyes instantly zeroing in on him, his bright hair making him stand out from the crowd. He froze and flinched. Those looks weren't friendly...

On his left a man suddenly stood and started to make his way towards him. The leer on his face wasn't encouraging. At all. So he did the one thing he could do in this situation:

He turned right and bolted.

* * *

 

The place he had appeared in was apparently called District 80, southern Rukongai.

The boy (f _or he didn't have a name yet, he'd have to think about that sometime in the future_ ) decided he didn't like it.

The place was dirty and it stank and the people were scary. They didn't smile, they smirked. They didn't look at him, they glared. They didn't talk, they yelled, and in some cases screamed.

Theft, robberies and murders happened daily, and even though most of the ghosts ( _and, boy, was that a shock for him when he discovered that all the people (and him, too, by default) were ghosts! Meaning they were_ dead!) didn't need food, those who had it wouldn't for the life (or in this case, death) of them share it, and those who didn't have any craved for it more than anything else. Did he already mention that beeing dead sucked? No? Well, beeing dead sucked.

He himself, he found, didn't need to eat daily, but nearly a week after his arrival he woke with an aching burn in his stomach and only one thought: _Food._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, I'll try to make them longer...
> 
> *geta are traditional japanese woodsandals. One wears them with tabi (toed socks).
> 
>  
> 
> ~Random japanese fact of the day: There is no japanese plural. Like sheep. Or fish. So it's one shinigami, two shinigami. One zanpakuto, two zanpakuto.~


End file.
